Possession
by jibber59
Summary: Sometimes you don't know what you have in you, until you have something else in you. My eternal gratitude to those who have created the world and the characters of The Library - this is just my feeble attempt to contribute to that world.
1. Chapter 1

_ "__Are you telling me he's dead?"_

_"__If he's lucky."_

The Librarians were almost done with the recovery. Given the warning Jenkins had given them about this outing, they had been expecting a lot more trouble. The region was a hot spot for magic, with multiple Lay Lines in area. When all got active at the same time, as was happening now, enchantment was everywhere, and not always in the best way. The clipping book sent them, all of them, to recover a box said to contain a cursed item. As long as it remained sealed, everything was fine, but someone had cracked the seal, ever so slightly. Not yet open, but ominously threatening. Even Jenkins didn't know exactly what was in there, and he didn't seem all that anxious to find out.

But it had been very straight forward, with the box being exactly where it was expected to be – on display in a small local museum as a piece of regional history. Nothing more than a knickknack someone had found clearing land for planting. It was smaller than they thought, not much bigger than a deck of cards. There was only one museum guard, really more of a docent, who had been easily manipulated by Jones's theft of a nearby figurine.

Jacob Stone started to wonder if there was more to all of this than they had seen on the surface. The clipping book didn't generally make mistakes like this, and Jenkins, for all of his bluster, was not prone to hyperbole. He had been worried about this one, and yet it had been the easiest recovery Jacob could remember. Still, something didn't feel right. Maybe his Librarian sense was kicking in a bit, but he had the distinct impression taking this box through the portal back to the Library was not a good idea.

"Jones – hold up a minute."

"Why – I want to get back. I have plans for the evening that can still work out"

"Whatever you plan to steal will still be there tomorrow – we need to talk about this. Cassandra darlin', let me see the box for a minute." Whenever he got tired or anxious, his Midwestern drawl kicked in a little more than usual. She liked it.

She handed him the bag she'd had slung over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know – but I got a feelin' something is." He reached into the bag and unwrapped the box from the scarf they'd secured it with. It was warm to the touch, much more that it should have been. It looked to him like there was a faint glow to it as well, but that could be the sunlight on it. Dropping the bag, he walked over to a more sheltered area, away from the glare. In the shade of the buildings he could see the source. The small crack in the seal was emitting a faint pale green glow.

"Did you guys see this before? Was there light here"

"I don't think so, but we never really took the time to look." Cassandra took a couple of steps forward, but Jake held up one hand, stopping her. "Do you think maybe you should wrap it up again?"

"Call Jenkins and ask him about this. Tell him the box is getting warmer too. And it's…" The box started vibrating in his hand, and he watched almost hypnotized as the crack spread to break the seal. He tried to drop it, but couldn't seem to let go. The lid flung back violently and the glow flashed to light the area, then disappeared.

He could hear Jones and Cassandra calling his name, shouting at him to drop the box, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. The box had come alive in his hand and was transforming. Almost snake like it began to unfold and wrap itself around his wrist, tightening like bands of leather. The pain started slowly but began to spread up his arm. He'd been hurt in the past, thrown from a horse or falling from a rigging, not to mention countless Saturday night bar brawls. But nothing that came close to this. A stabbing fire shot up his arm, his shoulder and into his chest. He couldn't help the scream he let out, already feeling the guilt for scaring the others. And he could see they were scared – terrified in fact. But he couldn't stop. The shots of pain kept coming, radiating through his limbs and torso until he could stand no longer and collapsed to the pavement below. His friends tried to come near, but he shouted them off, forcing a voice that he didn't believe he had the strength for. "Get out – get away – get help." His head dropped with one more anguished cry, then there was silence.

They watched him on the ground, unmoving for several seconds until there were signs of life again. Slowly, with his back to them, he stood up, extending his arms, flexing his joints and stretching out his neck muscles. Cassandra to a couple of steps toward him, speechless with relief that whatever that had been was over. Then he turned and she froze in place. Jake's warm blue eyes were ice black, and almost physically pierced through her. His friendly smile was an evil sneer, and the voice was quite clearly from the depths of some kind of hell. "You heard the man – get away. Get help – not that you'll find any."

He swept his arm towards them and they were sent flying backwards. He turned and walked away, not looking back.

**.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. **

Jenkins didn't even look up from his research when the library door opened. "Put the box in the container on the table and lock it. I'll put it into storage when I finish with this." When he got no response he raised his eyes. One look at the duo in front of him resulted in a pit in his stomach that went right down to his toes. "The box was opened?"

"It opened on its own, after we took it. Stone was holding it. I think he knew something was wrong. He didn't want it in the library for some reason."

Cassandra just stared wide eyed at Jenkins, unable to speak yet.

"And exactly where is Mr. Stone?" Neither of them could answer. Jenkins reached over to his phone and hit speed dial. He hated the modern technology, but it was convenient when one was in a hurry. "Colonel, I believe we have an issue that requires your assistance. Mr. Flynn as well if he is…oh, very well. That does seem to be important as well. But I believe you will want to get here as quickly as possible." He was quiet for a moment as he listened, trying to form his answer. "I believe…I'm afraid we have lost Mr. Stone."


	2. Chapter 2

"You sent them after a demon possessed box with no guardian? What the hell were you thinking?"

Baird had not stopped pacing, or yelling, since she arrived a few moments after the call. Cassandra had explained what the mission had been, but was unable to go into the details when it came time to describe what had happened to Jake. She tried, but her voice broke and body shook. She could feel an attack coming on, but refused to give into the tumor today. This was too important to be about her, and she all but willed herself to get past it. Baird watched her with some concern, but gave her the space she needed to pull herself back together. She understood the young woman's motives.

Jones picked up the description, in a voice far more subdued and sombre than he usually used. The boundless energy of his youth was reined in, or more accurately drained away. There was fear in his eyes when he described the final moments.

"OK". Baird took a deep breath. "So this is just a more powerful version of the Apple of Discord. We get it away from Jake, lock it up and things go back to normal."

"No Colonel, this is something very different. The apple brought out the worst in Mr. Stone, this has taken him over. "

"He's been possessed? Seriously? Exorcist-time, demonically possessed."

"Not exactly, but close enough. The energy trapped in the box needed a host, and he was the one holding it when the seal gave. "

"So it should have been me." Cassandra spoke quietly. "I was carrying it – I handed it to him right before it happened. It should be me."

"No Miss Cillian. It wouldn't have been you. The box – spirit – had a certain sentience. It could read who was holding it, and would seek out a strong – and I'm sorry here – healthy body to take over. Mr. Stone was really an ideal choice."

Jones re-entered the conversation. "Who is this – let's call it a demon? What does he want with Stone?"

"Well, taking your questions in order – I don't yet know who it is. It could be any one of a dozen or more demons who have been sealed in time to end the reign of terror. Have some ideas, and your descriptions should help. I don't suppose you took photos of the box?" Cassandra handed him her cell phone then took it back, pushed a few buttons and handed it back with the photo on the screen. "Thank you. OK – that should narrow the search a little. The symbols appear to have a native American feel to them, but predating most of the accepted historic timelines. Still, a starting point. It also may be another reason that Mr. Stone was selected. If I remember his biography he does have Native American ancestry, Cherokee I believe, as well as a keen interest in the history."

"Is that why it took him? Because there was a connection of some kind?"

"I believe that was just a fortunate coincidence for the creature, and extremely unfortunate for us. Mr. Stone's knowledge will be an asset. As for what it wants, I am afraid it already has that. A host. A strong healthy body to allow it to move around in our world."

Baird was shaking her head. "It's not like Jake is going to help this thing. He won't share his knowledge, and you can be sure he'll fight the thing…"

"Colonel, you have to realize. Jacob Stone is not in control of that that body any longer. It is likely that he isn't even still in there."

"Are you telling me he's dead?"

Jenkins hesitated for a moment, deciding they need the honest answer. "If he's lucky."

**.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. **

_It was good to be free of the box.__Had they still been alive, those who had sentenced him to such a fate would surely be made to suffer in ways beyond the scope of their tiny imaginations. But they were gone, centuries gone.__Perhaps, in time, he would hunt their descendants, for sport. Now, he needed to discover his new world.__This would be a good host; strong enough to last for a while anyway.__No human could support him for long, but as he was still not up to his full power, and as this body seemed to be in excellent condition, it should be able to support him long enough to determine his course of action. There was something else, something he couldn't define, about this host. It had seemed almost instinctive to take him, as if he was in some way returning rather than overtaking. He would have to explore this impression further, but first – it was time to feed. _

**.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. **

The Librarians went back to the museum, this time with the Guardian. Jenkins was doing his research, and they decided the best way to track Jake, or what Jake had become, was to go back to the source. They were not prepared for what awaited them. The docent and what must have been two visitors lay dead on the floor. Cassandra ran outside, unable to look at what had happened. Jones put on a brave face that lasted less than 5 seconds before he too bolted from the room. It had all the appearance of a feeding frenzy. The smell of blood permeated the room. Colonel Baird would have loved to have followed them out, but she had spotted a security camera in the corner. Given the age of the building, and likely security budget for the town, odds were there was a video machine around somewhere. Quickly locating the office, she found the recording device and rewound the tape. It only took a minute to find the moment Stone walked into the building, and not much longer to watch the carnage he created. No – not Stone. That – whatever – that took him over. Jenkins was right. She had to pray that Jacob was not still in there, not realizing what had happened. She reached over to the machine, removed the tape and quietly left the building.

**There had to be a way to stop this thing.****Jake could follow its every thought, every plan. Feel every step the creature took.****Once the initial pain had ended, and he realized he was still alive, he also realized he wasn't really alive.****He existed, but he wasn't there.****And he definitely was not in control.****He tried to stop his arm from swinging out and throwing his friends across the room.****Tried to stop the creature from pushing his consciousness back.****And he desperately tried to stop it once it entered the museum.****He could do nothing but scream with no voice as he experienced every moment of the attack.****He didn't care the cost; he was going to find a way to kill this, even if there was only one way to do so. There had to be a way. **

_He wasn't fond of the way the humans tasted now.__Time had obviously changed them.__He may have to consider a more natural diet once his strength had returned.__Still, they provided what he needed for the moment. And this host was proving to be more than expected.__It had tried to fight him!__A useless gesture, but annoying.__A moment of concentration enabled him to send an energy bolt through the body, enough to silence the voice inside again. _

**.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. **

The news stories were speculating that a rabid grizzly was in the area, and people had been warned to stay indoors and keep everything well looked. A second attack had occurred at a camp site, with two more victims. Rangers and animal control experts searched the country side, but had been unable to find any tracks or trails.

Jenkins was reading what felt like his millionth tome on the history of the area, magically speaking, though truth be told there was comparatively little information. Lots of speculation, no real leads. He was exhausted by the frustration of the process. Despite repeated protestations, he had become quite – accepting – of his Librarians. Mr. Stone especially had endeared himself to the intellectual side of Jenkins. The young man had a natural gift for the research, not surprising for someone with an IQ of 190. Add to that a rather unique philosophy on life – and reality – and the two of them had managed to have some interesting evening conversations. If only he didn't insist on beer instead of a more civilized cup of tea during these sessions. He quite hoped he could find a way to bring him back, although he doubted that was even a viable consideration at this point.

"What have you found for us?" Colonel Baird interrupted his thoughts.

"Nothing specific I'm afraid. A great deal of generalities on the demons of region going back for millennia, but without more to go on, the best I can do is narrow it down to 4 possibilities. None of them offer a particularly encouraging outcome to all of this. On the plus side, there is no real difference between them when it comes to ending this."

"Can it – they – be captured?"

"It would have to be diverted in some way to make it work. Having been encased once, it will be more difficult to lure it back into a snare."

"Can it be killed?"

"Not without destroying whatever is left of the host."

"Jake – not the host." Cassandra appeared from behind the stacks. "You want us to kill Jake."

"I want nothing of the kind Miss. Cillian. Trust me when I assure you that his return would be the ideal outcome of this. But we have to accept the reality of this. This creature has to be stopped."

Baird turned Cassandra towards her. "You know what Jake would want. He would tell us to do the right thing. That's who he is, and what he believes. We have to honour that. But that is a last option. We do not give up until there is no other way. I promise you that. But you have to be ready for the last option. We owe it to him."

"I know" she whispered as a single tear escaped. "The fact he is the guy who would say that is exactly what makes this all so unfair."

**.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. **

_His strength was returning. A few more feedings and he would be ready to move forward.__He probed the memories of his host, trying find what had changed in the centuries since he had last walked here.__The older information was easy to come by. This one had much knowledge. But every time he looked for material on the present the thoughts became jumbled and confused.__Somehow what was left of this mind was stopping him from learning what he needed.__He could wait.__As he gained strength this other one, this Jake, weakened.__It was only a matter of time now, and he had waited so long already that a few more sleeps would make no difference. _

**Jake didn't expect he could do this much longer. The struggle of keeping his current knowledge from the creature was draining him quickly.****He tried to focus on thinking only of the past, but the older memories were slipping.****The new ones, the attacks and feedings were vivid, and he could not keep them from bombarding him every time his concentration slipped.****He could tell he was no more effective than a mosquito buzzing a grizzly, but if it was annoying this creature even in the slightest, it was an effort worth making.****The tiniest of distractions might be all that was needed. **


	3. Chapter 3

"It's a spirit box. Basically the same as what you were bringing back, but with newer, stronger materials. From everything I can piece together, it is the only way to capture the demon. Who, by the way is not so much a demon as an accursed ancient soul, not that the distinction really matters at this point." Jenkins hand the box to Jones, who looked at it briefly and passed it to Cassandra. The team stood at the door, ready to do what had to be done. They had continued to monitor the area for more attacks, but all had been quiet for the last 24 hours. Then the clippings book provided the report of an attack on a cattle herd. Three animals slaughtered. Given the populace had barricaded themselves indoors, it would appear an alternate food source had been sought. But it told them what they needed to know – where to find their friend.

"There is an incantation – it must be delivered without interruption. It's not long, but as soon as the thing hears it, it will try to stop you. "

Jones cut to the chase. "Will it work?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe – well that's encouraging."

"I have taken every step available to make this the best – the only – possible solution. The box is as strong as magically possible. It has been blessed by a shaman. The incantation has been streamlined to be as short and precise as can be. I have powders and waters that may slow it down in battle. I don't know of anything else to make this work..."

"It's OK Jenkins." Baird interrupted. "We're all a bit on edge here. There is no way to know how this is going to come down. I don't think you two" she nodded at her Librarians "should be doing this but" she held up her hand to stop the objections before they could be voiced "but I know there is nothing I can say to stop you." She was so proud of them she could hardly contain it, but this was not the time to add any emotional baggage to the job. "Dial us in Jenkins. We have a demon to take down."

She took a few steps forward as they passed through the door, then took her standard look back to survey the area. She stopped short when she saw Jenkins was with them, raising an eyebrow at him. "It seemed like an 'all hands on deck' kind of moment" he said, shrugging, and looking slightly embarrassed by his gesture. Baird held back her smile and nodded. She had no time for more as they heard someone moving toward them. Turning, she had to steel herself to avoid the reaction that would betray her feelings.

It moved like Jake, and looked mostly like Jake, but there was an evil radiating from the form coming towards them, grinning maniacally. "Well, I suppose it was inevitable that you would make the effort. I'm glad you did - I was getting hungry."

The quartet spread out to try to divide the attention. It lifted an arm to send a wave of energy intended to send them sprawling, but left them barely aware of the force. A puzzled look crossed its face quickly, replaced by a determined glare. This time the force worked, but succeeded only in sending Jenkins and Cassandra to the ground. As he stood, Jenkins grabbed a long straight branch. It wasn't a sword, but might do in a pinch. Baird moved in from behind, delivering a roundhouse kick that sent the creature off balance. A second kick sent it to the ground. She did everything she could to not look it in the face as she prepared for a third kick, this time to the head. It grabbed her foot and threw her back, but with far less force that she would have expected. As she leapt back up, she saw Jones throwing the blessed waters at the creature, and watched it writhe at the burning sensation before turning to look up at them. For a flashing moment the eyes were blue – and scared, but determined. They looked straight at her. They all heard the voice, weak and raspy, but clear. "Kill it – me. Do what you have to." The black eyes returned and the creature rose again. Jenkins swung with his weapon, whipping it across the face, drawing blood, and the creatures attention. As it turned to him, Cassandra started speaking. Low but clear, she began the incantation. She fought to keep her voice calm, knowing she would cry later, but couldn't do that now. Jake was counting on her, and she had to prove to him at the end he could trust her.

As soon as she started the creature turned on her. _She must not be allowed to speak. Raising an arm and gathering its focus it charged toward her, to be dragged down by three bodies jumping on it.__With no effort it tossed them to the side and started to charge again.__But it couldn't focus on where the voice was coming from .__A sound in its head was drowning out the words.__A hum, music, a buzz, that would not let it focus.__Pain shot through its limbs as it started losing control.__It could feel itself disintegrating, breaking into particles being drawn back to the prison box.__The music was louder, the incantation was being repeated.__Light was fading, energy fading.__There was nothing but the sound of a closing lid. _

**Cassandra would not pay for this.****It would not reach her.****His last conscious thoughts were to stop it; to distract it. With everything he had he raised the energy to send as much confusion and noise at this thing that he could.****He could feel it losing focus. Feel it questioning its next move, feel it fall.****He could feel all of the pain as it began to fall apart.****Then he could feel nothing. **

"Seal the box. Quickly – finish the incantation. Don't stop until there is no light."

Cassandra kept speaking, looking only at the box. If she took her eyes from it, she would look at the body on the ground, and she couldn't do that. Not until she knew she had finished this for him. Finally the box went dark. There was no warmth, no light. No sense from it any more. Jenkins took it from her and placed it into a black bag, and that in turn into a white bag. She looked up at him, and he smiled just a little. "Excellent work, my dear. He'd be very proud of you."

They looked over at Jake. Baird had moved over and sat beside him, gently turning his head. There was blood on his face from the lash strike Jenkins had delivered, but other than that, he looked more asleep than broken. She softly placed a hand on his throat, in what was a reflexive search for life signs. She gasped and pulled her hand back sharply when she felt them. It was a weak pulse, but it was there. "Jake, can you hear me?" She took his face in her hands and turned him to her. "Can you hear me? "Come on mate, give us a sign." Jones had dropped to his knees on the ground beside them. Jenkins and Cassandra remained immobile, but Cassandra was quietly whispering "please" over and over again.

After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes slowly opened. They were cloudy and unfocused, but blue eyes stared up at them. One word slipped from his lips before he passed out again. "Home."

**.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. **

It was two days before Jake opened his eyes again. When he did, he saw Cassandra curled up napping in a chair near the bed. Jenkins was at a desk that had been set up in what was clearly a makeshift hospital room. Jake tried to speak, but was able to deliver only a dry rasp. It was enough to get attention. Jenkins was on his feet faster than Jake would have thought possible, and was offering him ice chips. "Better for your throat that water will be right now."

"What…?"

"We'll answer all of your questions in a bit. Give yourself a couple of minutes to wake up." Cassandra was awake by now, and holding his hand gently. She smiled softly but couldn't seem to speak.

"You OK darlin'?" he rasped out. "You hurt?"

"OK now" she replied.

"Well Sleeping Beauty opens his eyes. 'Bout time mate." Jake looked at the thief. Must be the light playing tricks on him, but he would swear the young man's eyes were watering.

Baird came and stood at the end of his bed. "You had us going for a while Stone."

"What happened?" He saw the looks they gave each other before returning their attention to him.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Baird asked, praying he would remember none of it.

He took a breath and closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts in a cohesive form. "We were looking for a box – no, we had found it. Almost back at the door. Something attacked us – me. Something…" he stopped talking, stopped breathing. His eyes opened wide and they could see the panic spreading on his face as his body started to shake.

"It's over Jake. It's OK, it's over. You won. It's gone Jake." He couldn't tell who was saying what, he heard only a jumble of voices trying to calm him. The panic welled up. Baird waved the others to be quiet, and firmly took him by the shoulders.

"Jake, listen to me. Listen. It is over. We won. You won. Do you understand me? You're safe. Stay with us Jake. You have to focus on me. Stay focused." She could feel the shaking slow to a slight tremble. It wasn't perfect, but it was better. He took a gulp of air, then another and coughed. She continued to hold him still until he settled further.

"He's gone?"

"It – not he. And yes, locked away in a spot never to be found again, with instructions for a binding spell to be reissued annually" Jenkins assured him. "It will never see the light of day again."

Jake tried to sit up, but every muscle fought back in pain.

"Take it slowly. It's a little hard on the body to be possessed. You are going to be hurting for a while. You'll time need to get your strength back." Jake nodded slowly, acknowledging Jenkins was right on that. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. Jenkins spoke softly again.

"Can I get you something more to drink? I think you should wait a few days before have a beer, but I could make tea."

Jake started to shake his head at the offer. He wasn't really thirsty, but it occurred to him he probably hadn't eaten for a while. Then he realized he had. The horror on his face told the others his memory had returned.

"That wasn't you Jake. You had no part in any of it. Do you understand me? Don't even start to think that way. You couldn't control…"

"Stop. Please. Don't say anything. I know – I just don't… I can't…" He turned his head anyway, unable to look at them, unable to deal with them looking at him. "Please leave me alone."

They stood quietly, not knowing how to help. Halfway out the door Cassandra stopped abruptly, turned and stomped back to the bed. "No – you don't get to make this decision. You used your last words to tell us to kill you to stop it. You used the last bit of energy you had to distract this thing so we could stop it. You may well be the most moral man I have ever met, but that does not entitle you to take on the guilt of some creature that had taken you over. All of us do what we can. Every time we can. The Jacob Stone I know would never take credit for someone else's actions, so you are not allowed to take the blame for them either. You can't help yourself – you're a white hat kind of guy. But this one is not on you. So knock it off."

They all stared as she stormed out of the room, and cautiously turned back to look at Jake. He looked stunned, but with a bit more light in his eyes than had been there moments earlier. He swallowed and looked back toward them. "Is anybody else just a little scared by her?"

"Maybe a little" Baird admitted. "Try to get some sleep. We can talk later. You'll need to do that you know."

Jake turned his head away again, closed his eyes and nodded. He wasn't ready yet, but he would be. They wouldn't give him a choice in the matter.


	4. Chapter 4

_Three weeks later_

Jake closed the ancient text on the table and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. He'd lost track of how long he'd been sitting there, but the protest from his back muscles let him know it had been a while. Slowly he started stretching out. He knew he should be working out more that he had been; he needed to get his full strength back, but getting to the gym just hadn't been a priority. Baird hadn't been pushing him the way she used to, so it was easy to ignore the training sessions. Come to think of it, none of them had been pushing him about anything. He'd been allowed to research whatever interested him. Jenkins had not given him an assignment, and his clippings book had been quiet. Cassandra and Jones had been on a few missions, all of which had been pretty basic stuff from what he could tell. They didn't really talk about it very much when he was around. Nobody seemed to know exactly what to say when he was around.

Baird had tried to draw him out a couple of times, asking him leading, but not particularly probing questions about his experience. He deflected most of them, and she never pushed. Cassandra avoided the subject completely, talking about every fluffy, foolish topic she could come up with, all the time unable to keep a look of concern, and a bit of pity, out of her eyes. He hated that look. Jones – well, he was Jones. He had made a couple of comments, which usually resulted in Baird punching him in the arm and changing the subject.

The closest anyone had come to directly dealing with it was Jenkins. Jake could often feel the older man watching him, and likely evaluating his progress. One evening, when the others were on missions, Jake looked up to see Jenkins coming with teacup in one hand, and a beer in the other. Nothing was said for several minutes. Jake finally broke the silence, as he expected was the intention.

"I have a feeling you know more about what happened that you have let on. But then I also have a feeling that is usually the case."

"I assure you Mr. Stone, I had no idea how things would turn out when you all left on that retrieval. I never would have allowed you to go out without the Colonel if I had even suspected –"

"I know that Jenkins. I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone."

"Really? I get the distinct impression you blame someone. Someone you are completely unwilling to forgive. You hold him to far too high a standard." Jake said nothing, but chugged down about half his bottle. "It is a shame. He doesn't deserve the guilt you know."

Jake put down the beer and stood. "Thanks for the recommendation. I'll take it under advisement."

They hadn't really spoken since.

He pushed away from the table and stood, stretching again. Hearing voices, he looked up to see the group headed towards him.

"Done for the night?"

"Yeah – we were headed out for dinner. Would you care to join us?" Baird invited.

"Where're you going?"

"There's a new steak hou…" Jones started but was cut off by Cassandra. "There's this really cute vegetarian place in town I've wanted to try."

"It's OK Cassie" Jake sighed at her rather transparent effort. "You guys go ahead and enjoy a steak. I'm not really in the mood for dinner out."

"Too bad." Baird took his left arm, Jones on the right, and they marched him out and to the car saying "We are taking prisoners."

"Guys – really. Not hungry."

"Fine – don't eat." Cassandra stood in front of him. "But you are not spending another night alone. We've been patient long enough."

Baird spoke up - "Jake, nobody is pretending you haven't been through more than you ever should have been, but you can't hide in the library forever. You have to get back into the game."

Jake's voice got very quiet. "It's not a game. It will never be a game again." He pulled away from his escorts. "Not in the mood for dinner tonight." He took a calming breath. "Can talk about it tomorrow?"

His three friends looked at each other for a minute, then nodded, with Baird again taking the lead. "OK – but no more stalls. I expect to see you at the gym at 7:30 – and be ready to work."

"Great !" Jones said as they got near the car "Does this mean we can go to the steak house? Ow – why did you punch me?"

Jake watched them drive away before going back to library to grab his jacket. He paused for a moment, before going to his desk and retrieving the notebook he'd been using for the last few weeks. He tore out the pages he'd written on, removed the first one and folded the others into his pocket. The remaining page went into an envelope he took from the back of the book. He sealed it and stepped over to the Colonel's desk, standing quietly beside it for a moment, before dropping the envelope and his clipping book. He knew she would spot them immediately on her return. She had an eye for the details. He looked around the familiar space. Cassandra's work area was tidy and precise. A few knickknacks personalized her space, in her own quirky cute way. He felt a lump in his throat as he turned away. Jones' space was sparse. No books, but a few blueprints and a map spread out. There was a time he cared enough to have checked it out to see what heist the thief was (theoretically) plotting.

He turned and walked to the door, lifting the collar of the jacket before reaching for the handle. As he turned for one final look, he caught a small movement on the balcony above. Looking up, he saw Jenkins quietly looking down at him. They made eye contact for a moment, and Jake felt and overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He could clearly see what he interpreted as disappointment in the man's eyes and was ashamed of himself for his failure. Unable to speak, he turned and left for the last time.


	5. Chapter 5

"Turns out there aren't a lot of Ley Lines in that part of the country, so we need another excuse to visit Oklahoma. Any ideas?" Baird looked to the Librarians for suggestions, and was greeted by blank stares.

"Uh – well, I guess we could tell him was are looking for something – it doesn't really have to be there"

"No way" Cassandra objected. "He has enough trust issues with me. I am not going to invent a quest."

Jenkins entered the room. "Here's a novel thought. Why don't you tell him you were concerned about how he was adjusting to settling back into his routine, so thought you would pay him a visit?"

"The truth?" Jones questioned. "That is a seriously sneaky idea. Didn't know you had that in you old man!" Jenkins glared, and Jones quietly took a step back.

Which is how the Librarians ended up sitting at a table in Duke's Bar 5 weeks after Stone had left. When they arrived in town they headed to the hub of all information in any small community – the local coffee shop. The young waitress gave both Baird and Cassandra a suspicious look when they asked about Stone after they'd eaten. "How do you know Jake?"

"Oh, he was helping us out on a project at our Library – we're Librarians" Cassandra volunteered, smiling broadly without picking up at all on the jealously in the other woman's question.

"Jake – in a Library? You sure you are looking for the right Jacob Stone? That cowboy uses books to prop open doors!"

"We're sure. We were doing some historical research on oil rigs and he was able to provide us with some details, given the family business and all." Baird hoped she sounded more convincing that she felt.

"Yeah – that makes sense. And Jake always was the guy to go out of his way to help someone. If you want to find him your best bet will be Duke's tonight. He's been there the last few Friday nights, so I imagine this week will be the same. You want a good table you should get there by 8." She topped off their coffees and left the bill on the table. "You have a good day now."

The bar was comfortably crowded by the time they arrived. They were too late to get a table, near the front or anywhere else, so settled for a seat at the bar. They could hear a musician strumming from the stage area, and the overall sound level indicated most of the patrons were paying attention to him. When the singing started again they could understand why. The voice was mellow, and reflected the pain evident in the lyrics:

_I just can't get the hang of hanging on_

_Every time I try to grab it, the will is gone._

_When she looks into my eyes_

_She sees a man she used to recognize_

_And not the stranger trying to go it all alone._

_Maybe someday I'll see exactly what she sees in me._

_Maybe someday I'll be exactly who she wants me to be._

_Maybe someday I'll have the strength to run into the man that I once was_

_But right now I think I'll walk into a crawl._

Cassandra was the first to recognize the voice, and sat stunned for a moment before standing up and working her way forward, with Baird and Jones following close behind. Jake sat on a stool, alone on the stage. The stage-lights kept him from seeing his newest fans move to the side of the room, watching him as he finished the song, and joining in the boisterous approval of the room. Jake looked a little overwhelmed by the response, grinned shyly at the crowd, setting the guitar on the stand and stepped away to head over for a beer. He stopped short when he saw the trio waiting. For a moment there was a look of anticipation on his face, followed by a fleeting glimpse of fear, then exasperation. "I could have sworn I asked you not to look for me."

"You call this looking? Please. If you didn't want to be found, home was the last place you would have headed." Jake had almost forgotten how annoying Jones's 'logic' could be.

"I thought you would have the decency to respect my request. Stupid assumption on my part I guess." Jake had reached the bar. "I'll take that Lone Star now darlin'" he smiled at the redhead behind the taps.

"Ya have anything to eat tonight honey?" as she passed the bottle to him, a hint of concern in her voice.

"I'm fine – thanks."

"Jake" Cassandra had found her voice, "that was amazing. I had no idea you could sing like that. Did you write it? It was beautiful, but so…so…"

"Pathetic?"

"Poignant" she corrected. "It's heartbreaking."

"Just a song. Why are you here? I told you I was done."

Baird stepped up. "No, you wrote to us you were done. You didn't TELL us anything, and I think we deserve to hear it."

"Fine. I'm done. Satisfied?"

"No. Jake, you can't walk away from who you are."

"Watch me." He turned and left.

"OK – that didn't go as planned."

"Jones you have a real talent for stating the obvious." She could not believe he had walked out on them.

"Look mate, I'd like him back too. With him gone we are obviously going to have to do more work, which as you know is not by thing. But we can't exactly drag him kicking and screaming into the Library. For one thing, it has no class, and for another, he won't stay."

"But we can't leave him here. You heard the song. He is still lost. We have to help him."

"Cassandra, you can't help somebody who isn't ready to be helped. He knows we're here, let's just give him a bit of time to adjust to that. We did kind of catch him off guard tonight."

Cassandra nodded. "And maybe a little vulnerable too. Those lyrics were so sad."

They headed out to the parking lot. It was a quiet night once you left the bar. The full moon lit up a star filled sky and for a moment the peace of the moment overtook everything they were all feeling.

``I can understand why he would come here. It is so calm and simple. So 'un-Library'. You can see so many more stars. Look at the constellations. It looks like they are all lining up. Almost shifting…" Cassandra had stopped walking while the others headed to the car, and she now stood alone in the parking lot, lost in her focus on the night sky, oblivious to the reality around her. She didn't see the pickup truck whipping around the side of the building, driven by a hotshot who had had one too many that night. The Colonel turned at the sound of the engine and screamed out her name, knowing she was too far away to help the young woman. At the last possible second and arm reached out and wrapped around Cassandra's waist, pulling her away as the truck plowed through the spot she had occupied a micro-second before.

She gasped and turned. Without a word, Jake set her down on shaky legs, then leaned back against wall, his own legs being none to stable. "You OK?"

She nodded, still unable to speak. The others had reached them, and wordlessly checked them to make sure everyone was still in one piece.

"OK then – see you around." Jake again turned to leave, but this time he was stopped by Cassandra stepping in front of him. Without a word she reached up and enfolded him, crying quietly on his shoulder. "Please Jake. We need you back. Not because of this. Just Because."

"I can't" he said, gently pushing her back. "I just can't. I can't close my eyes without seeing everything happening over again. I can't look in the mirror without seeing what I was." He held up a hand to silence the coming objections. "I know you're going to say it wasn't me. But to me, it was. I can't get past that."

"Have you tried to?" Jones asked bluntly.

Baird reached out to punch him again, but he sidestepped her. "Seriously Stone. Have you tried to, or are you just accepting this is your lot in life? Martyrdom is a very heroic was to hide from something. You never struck me as the poor pitiful me type. Was I wrong?"

Jake looked at him for a long moment without speaking. He wasn't sure whether he was more annoyed by the revelation, or by the source.

He turned to Baird. "Can we talk for a minute – alone?"

Cassandra took Jones by the hand. "Come on, walk me to the car."

"I'm not sure if I can to this" he said when they were out of hearing.

"There isn't anyone who has ever been in combat that hasn't had to deal with things they wish they'd never seen, or heard, or experienced. But you can't turn back the clock. You learn to accept what you have to."

"Bit of a difference here COLONEL. I'm not a soldier. I never signed on for that. I'm a cowboy – an oil rigger."

"No – you're not a soldier. But you're not just a cowboy either. You're an historian, you're a genius. You're an art and cultural expert. You're a Librarian. You have no real choice in that you know. Once you take the title you can't give it back. It becomes who you are. And it would seem there is not a damn thing you can do about it."

"I can stay out of the Library."

"Can you? Really? I saw the look on your face when you saw us. For a moment, just a moment, you were ready for action. Then you let the memories overwhelm you again."

"I can't stop them."

"Then use them. Let them remind you why you do this, why you have to do this. What if you hadn't been holding the box? Do you think Cassandra would have survived that? What about Jones? He has already told us he plans to sell the planet out when the aliens arrive." She didn't try to keep the smile off her face as she reminded Jake of the moment. She was inordinately pleased to see a flash of a grin at his recollection.

He sighed deeply and looked away. "What if I can't fight it next time?"

"It won't come back Jake – it can't. Jenkins has that thing locked up sixteen different ways."

"What about the next 'it'. The next Apple, or the next whatever comes along?"

"You'll do the same as you have always done– the best you can."

"I don't know that – how can you?"

"All things considered, it may not be the best analogy to draw but like it or not, you are a knight in shining armour kind of guy. You know you are."

"You trying to tell me you are the damsel in distress?" he asked raising an eyebrow. Her glare in response actually made him laugh, for the first time in months.

"What about it Stone – ready to come back?"

"Well, there will be one definite advantage to leaving." Baird raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you have any idea what it is like to be a cowboy in Oklahoma who doesn't eat steak?"

She chuckled – "How about I buy you a fried chicken dinner instead?"

And for the first time in a long time, the thought of dinner with friends sounded like a good idea.

END

_In The Darkness lyrics__ by Christian Kane_


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